


On Birthdays, Aristocracy, and Poo

by NevillesGran



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon, Spoilers for finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-19 08:33:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12406860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NevillesGran/pseuds/NevillesGran
Summary: “Papa?”“Yes, my dear?” Percy straightened up at his daughter’s voice, a welcome distraction from the clock figurine sketches he’d been poring over. He wasn’t getting anything done today, anyway.“Why is Mama sad?”Some things get much better, with time. But some times are still hard.





	On Birthdays, Aristocracy, and Poo

“Papa?”

“Yes, my dear?” Percy straightened up at his daughter’s voice, a welcome distraction from the clock figurine sketches he’d been poring over. He wasn’t getting anything done today, anyway. 

Julia was dressed for a day running around outside, but her clothes were still clean. Normally that would have meant impatient bouncing, or frustration at needless adult delays. Now, however, her expression was serious, hard-thinking. It sat curiously on her normally smiling five-year-old face.

“Why is Mama sad?” 

Oh.

Julia twisted a lock of hair around one finger, still dark blonde like Percy’s had been as a child. “’Cuz it’s her birthday, and she was all happy when we made her breakfast in bed, but she’s still just sitting in the garden with Trinket. She said I should go play in front, or with Aurora, but now Rora’s napping, and she can’t do bows ‘n arrows anyway, and we’re not having a banquet tonight like we do for your birthday, or mine, or Rora or Aunt Cass. We _never_ have a big party for Mama’s birthday.” 

Percy pushed back from his desk and beckoned his daughter into his lap. “Come here.”

By design, his office chair was entirely large and comfortable enough to fit them both. Not until she was settled, and he had buried his face in her soft hair for a moment, and hugged her tightly enough to give her play clothes some of the wrinkles they deserved, did he speak again.

He sat her back on his knees, so he could see her face. “You know all about your Uncle Vax, right? How he was your Mama’s twin brother, and he flew around and was incredibly sneaky, and when we defeated Vecna, he had to go with the Raven Queen afterwards, because he had promised her?”

Though that didn’t begin to cover it, really. Didn’t include beard-shaving or Trinket covered in bows, words indignant and irritated and sometimes with a punch in the face, or holding back laughter in a bathtub. Years of campfires and battlegrounds and slowly remembering what it felt like to have siblings again.

Julia nodded solemnly. “Uh-huh. One time Grog pushed him in a pile of poo.”

Percy barked a laugh. “That he did! An entire sewer, actually. Gods, that was a mess…” 

He straightened his glasses. “But, you know what ‘twins’ means, right? Vex- Mama and Vax shared the same birthday. So, sometimes she gets sad at this time of year…”

“Because she thinks about him extra?” Julia guessed. And added, with sober certainty: “And she misses him.”

Percy hugged her tight again. “Very astute.”

“An’ so do you.” Her voice was muffled against his doublet.

“Yeah. Sometimes.” 

He shifted his position to make sure she could breath. Her arms wrapped around him in return, as far as they could go.

“But your Aunt Keyleth will be here tonight," Percy continued, "with Pike and Grog and Scanlan, and Kash and Zahra and Vix. Tary and Lawrence will get here tomorrow morning. Then we’ll have a birthday party for Mama.”

“Mmhm.” Julia stayed wrapped around his waist. Percy made no effort to dislodge her.

Until she said, quietly, like she wasn’t sure she wanted him to hear it, “So it’s not ‘cuz she just married into the family, and wasn’t born ‘legitimate’?”

“ _What_ ,” Percy snapped, and pushed his daughter back so sharply that Julia yelped. He guiltily loosened his grip on her arms. 

“Where did you hear that?” he asked, carefully level, as she squirmed upright again.

“Dunno. At a party.” Julia wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I heard some people talking.”

In Percy’s judgement, her evasion was less _I know who it was but I’m covering for my playmates, who won’t be my playmates once longer once my father finds out who’s been parroting malicious bullshit_ and more _I was hiding under the desert table when I was supposed to be in bed_. That was…well, another problem, but a perfectly healthy family tradition, from both sides.

“That is malicious nonsense,” he said firmly. “When we have the Grey Hunt every year, that’s when we celebrate Mama, not her birthday. Because she earned her title, not like you and me, or those…jerks who were talking at the party. We all just got lucky in birth.“

Julia frowned. “We just got lucky?”

“Ah…” Percy leaned forward and planted a deliberately sloppy kiss on her forehead. “Well, I got _very_ lucky, and you’re still too young to have done very much else than get lucky. When you’re older, maybe you can win a title like your mother, Grand Mistress of the Grey Hunt or something even better.”

He kissed her again, a quick peck this time, because nothing was cleaner and softer than the precise place where his daughter’s messy bangs brushed her forehead. Unless, perhaps, the precise place where his _other_ daughter’s messy bangs, still curly with toddlerhood, met _her_ forehead. But Aurora was taking her midday nap. He didn't mind making do.

And Julia giggled, and pushed him back with an exasperated, “Papa!”

Percy lifted off his lap, with a quiet inward groan for how big she was getting. In age and weight. Children were, quite literally, easier to handle when they were smaller.

“What time is it?” he asked, and waited patiently while Julia narrowed her eyes at the clock over the door.

“…'Leven forty?” she guessed.

“Just right,” said Percy. He was rewarded with a bright grin. 

Though, damn, that was longer than he had meant to work.

“Let’s table for now the debate on the philosophy of aristocratic rights,” he said, and took her hand as he stood. “If Mama’s in the garden, that means she actually probably does want to spend time with us, if we’re quiet. Then, when Aurora wakes up from her nap, maybe we’ll all go out to the forest for a picnic before everyone arrives.”

“Okay!” Julia skipped to keep up with him. “If I find a poo in the woods, can I push Aurora in it?”

Percy just barely managed not to snort with laughter. 

“Not even for your uncle’s birthday,” he managed instead, suitably stern. 

Julia sighed, long and suffering. “But she still poos in her diaper anyway.”

“No,” Percy repeated. “If you find a poo-” (he wouldn’t have dreamed of a conversation like this, five years ago, much less eight or nine) “-you can ask your mother what kind it is, and how long ago the animal left it.”

“Okay.”

She slouched, subdued, but Percy caught a distinct glint in her eye that suggested she hadn’t given up yet.

He pretended not to notice, as they walked down the stairs to the garden. Perseverance was a fine family tradition as well. And if the subsequent chaos made Vex laugh, on her birthday, it would be well-worth a scolding and a once-clean outfit or two.

**Author's Note:**

> I feed on comments like a college student needs caffeine and anxiety. What was your favorite line? Why? What did it make you feel? Constructive criticism welcome!


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